


Cinematic Parallels or Something

by Sandbirde



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Quadrant Confusion, Quadrant Vacillation, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21620584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandbirde/pseuds/Sandbirde
Summary: "I know I made a lot of mistakes, but I don't regret making any of them." - 13 Going on 30Karkat and Sollux mend bridges.
Relationships: Sollux Captor/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 7
Kudos: 44





	Cinematic Parallels or Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chemistrykind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemistrykind/gifts).



> My half of a fic trade with @chemistrykind ! They just said they wanted either johndave or solkat, and since I've already been working on some johndave for a while, I decided to challenge myself. Enjoy!

He finds you in your room, doing your best to look contemplative as you memorize the slightly cracked cover of  _ In Which a Young Troll Girl On the Cusp of Puberty Has a Disappointing Birthday, As A Result of Which She Finds Herself in a Closet with a False Hive For Troll Figurines and Makes A Wish to be an Adult, Not Knowing that the Hive, In Fact, is Covered in a Light Sprinkling of Magic Dust, Which Grants Her Wish, Causing Her to Awaken as An Adult, with - _ Okay, this is obnoxious. The title covers almost the entire front of the case. You can't even see the actors properly.

You're facing the back wall, but you know his footsteps like your own bloodpusherbeat - frantic, stuttering, like it's constantly on the verge of collapse. Damn it, why'd you have to put it like that? Your stupid genetic fuck-up of a heart and the disgusting sludge it produces are the last thing you want to think about right now - and yet, here you go, still thinking about it! You hold yourself back from smacking yourself in the head, barely.

Honestly, you don't want to think about anything right now.

For a minute, he just stands there, making the hairs on your neck stand on end from being observed. Your jaw clenches. Does he see it? You flip the DVD case over like a flashcard, testing yourself. His weight shifts slightly. You don't remember a word.

"KK."

His voice is soft, tentative. Of course it is. He's taming the beast. You squint at the inane plot synopsis - summarizing everything up to the third act, as always. Enough to tell you what you're in for, yet daring you to take the bait and find out if Jennif Anist ever returns to her childhood, armed with valuable life lessons and plagued with an existentialism you don't see because it's obscured by the one-note romance with her best friend. What can you say? You're a sucker for a happy ending.

You're not sure why they still bother with plot synopses when the title says it all, though. Must be some weird outdated holdover from a time when titles were formatted in that way the humans picked up instead of the normal one, somehow. That never ceases to baffle you.

His breath catches, rudely knocking your train of thought off the rails and crashing into the ravine below. It was almost too quiet to hear, but you can always just  _ feel  _ things like that. It's the one almost-useful aspect of your being. Your entire existence is perception. Your life is a 4D movie and it stopped being interesting a few minutes in. You should have gone to your recuperacoon hours ago. You have to pee. You're more than idly considering turning the in-hive visual media machine off and calling it a day.

"KK. Please."

His tone is infuriating. You're not sure which kind. You don't care which kind, damn it! Every move he makes is calculated, and you wish you could believe he's waiting to take advantage of you. If it was that simple, you could kick him out, unleash unholy fury onto him until his auricular sponge clots bled, and then erase him from your life. You could sweep all these complicated feelings under the rug and carry on with your pitiful existence until your inevitable culling. You could breathe.

Fuck him for actually caring.

He sighs, but even this is gentle. He knows this isn't the time for impatience. You hate that. Fuck him for knowing that. Fuck you for letting him know.

"I'm not leaving."

You groan. Fine, god damn it. You slide the disc carefully back into place and turn to face him. He's got you cornered, so you might as well play along.

"What do you want?"

He straightens up, one arm across his midsection, the other neutral at his side. "To apologize."

You scoff. It makes him flinch, maybe - you can't tell and you don't care. "And why's that? So I'll shrug it off like always and we can go back to our stupid fucking vacillation two-step where we tear each other down to our pathetic, quivering cores one minute and worship each others' asses the next? Yeah, sounds delightful. Let me just pencil the next couple Karkat recovery periods into my calendar and we can get right on that."

"KK, you're my best friend. I just want -"

You are  _ not  _ crying. "This is exactly what I fucking mean, Sollux. How am I supposed to believe that when your favorite hobby is provoking me into such a blind rage justice herself prostrates at my feet, then shitting yourself in shock when I fuck off to wherever you aren't and don't want to talk to you?"

His bottom lip disappears into his mouth. Good. Let him eat his entire goddamn face off, for all you care. It's about time he got the slightest fucking inkling of how he's made you feel - not that you're anywhere near done telling him off.

You ignore your bloodpusher steadily descending into your acid tubes.

"If you really want to fix this, forget the fucking apology. I don't need another fucking sorry. I need you to go home and sit in a fucking corner and actually  _ think  _ for two goddamn seconds about the constant river of steaming hot bullshit you've been spewing directly into my open skull. We're 6 goddamn sweeps already, Sollux." Your voice cracks. You don't care.  _ You don't care. _ "You should have learned as a fucking shitsmearing grub that friends don't treat friends the way you treat me. I just don't fucking get it."

He releases his lip, but doesn't speak, just stares at you with that - that  _ examination  _ that drives you  _ up the fucking wall _ . He's constantly trying to  _ figure you out _ , to  _ plan  _ what to say next. Well, you're getting the last fucking word this time, even as your shoulders slump and your head threatens to give up and hang dramatically. "I'm just tired, Sollux. Really fucking tired. We've been friends for practically our entire fucking lives, but lately I don't even know which fucking way is up around you."

Yep, there goes your head. You're now staring at the floor, your head pounding as you finally relax your face. Jesus. Why is it always you that ends up in pain?

"Karkat."

This time, you flinch, as much as you hate to admit it. He never uses your full name. The tone is still soft, but less like a pseudotherapist and more like a small prey animal begging for its life. It's more real than anything he's given you in a long time. You don't know how to feel.

"If you really want me to leave...if there's really nothing I can do to make this better right now, then I'll go. I'll do whatever you want me to. Just say the word. But first I have to tell you that, if I do leave, it doesn't mean we aren't friends anymore. I'm not abandoning you. I'm not sick of you."

You huff a sigh. Your anger is already dialing back to exasperation, and you hate that as much as everything else. "Hell of a way to show you're not sick of me."

Silence hangs off the metaphorical cliff. You finally lift your head again to see Sollux twist his mouth to the side, his eyebrows uncertain where to settle as they clench and relax in a frustrated rhythm. He coughs, and the silence jolts, skittering away like a frightened hoofbeast. It's a speck on the horizon by the time he speaks.

"I know you said you don't want to hear it, but I really am sorry. You're my best friend, and you're right. I've been a total shithead to you. It was just jokes at first, but I went way too far, and I knew it. I don't even know  _ why  _ I kept beating that dead hoofbeast for so long it reduced into breathable particles. Maybe I just thought it was okay because it was me and you? Or...I don't know -"

"Sollux."

He clamps his mouth shut, blinking rapid-fire behind his shades. You initially planned to make him grovel a lot longer and more intensely than this, but, as always, you can't look at that face and stay mad for long.

"Just hearing you say it makes me feel a fuckton better, to be honest."

The exasperation has dissolved into...something else. Mostly relief that you're not going fucking insane and losing one of your closest friends in the process, but also a dull pain that you can't put a finger on. Whatever. You'll have time to overexamine and subsequently have a breakdown over it later.

Right now you're busy definitely  _ not  _ crying.

Sollux's mouth opens, then closes. He finally breaches the barrier of the doorframe, walking over and sitting next to you on the floor. He doesn't touch you, doesn't say anything, just sits there while you get your shit sorted out. When you've calmed down and the  _ nonexistent  _ tears have dried, you're the first to speak.

"I don't believe you, though."

He tilts his head, his expression a predictable mix of confusion and worry. Your lower jaw tenses. "What do you mean?"

You clear your throat until you can cough up the words. "You don't commit that intently to making someone's life hell because you didn't know where the fucking boundary of your friendship was. If it was someone like...I don't fucking know, Vriska, or Gamzee maybe, I could see that happening. Not you."

He blushes, turning away from you. You swallow. You've hit the nail on the head, haven't you? God damn it. You should let him confess, though, right? It's basic courtesy; nothing to do with the fact that it's one of the last things you ever want to say.

The silence returns for a third time, but the weight is so different it's barely noticeable. You can wait like this all damn sweep if you have to.

"Look, KK…"

Your acid tubes all slam together at once. Guess you don't have to.

"You're not…" He groans, rubbing his temples. He does it every time he's thinking about something he doesn't want to. Right now, you can empathize. "You're not wrong. It's...kinda both? But also not. It's really confusing. And I know you said before that you don't...feel that way about anyone, and I'm not trying to disrespect that. I don't know  _ what  _ I'm trying to do." He groans again, shaking his head.

You have no fucking clue how to respond. What do you even do in a situation like this? It's not like you know how he feels any better than he does. Is there even a right way to go here? Why is this shit always so much more complicated in real life? You scrunch up your legs, wrapping your arms around them. You're still thinking of what to say when he abruptly stands up.

"Look, I'm sorry. This is really fucking stupid. You don't deserve to have to deal with this. I'm just gonna -"

Without thinking, you reach out and grab his hand. He jerks back, looking at you wide-eyed. Your mouth opens automatically, and half formed thoughts start pouring out.

"I don't...think you're trying to do anything. I think we're both just really, really confused. I also think that we're best friends, and won't fucking let you dump your feelings and run. I'm a complete fucking sniveling self-indulgent catastrophic failure of a troll, so I can't help you figure this shit out, but I can still be here next to you. I know it's not enough, but it's better than nothing."

He stares at you for a moment, and you feel a familiar chill creeping through your muscles. Then he smiles, and a rush of warmth floods your body. You might just be feverish, though.

He sits back down next to you, and your face is on fire. Jesus. You make a mental note to lower the temperature of your recuperacoon a degree or two. A trip to the ablution trap wouldn't hurt, either. You generally feel pretty gross, now that you think about it.

"Thanks, KK."

So you're "KK" again. That's good, you guess.

"Don't know what I've done that's worth being thanked for. Pretty sure everything that occurred here is just basic fucking friendship."

Sollux chuckles, in that low, sad way that always makes you bite back a question. "Well, thanks for that, then, asshole." He cuffs the back of your head. You growl halfheartedly, but soon you're both laughing. The momentary reprieve helps more than you expected.

"Okay, okay, you win. You're welcome for barely reciprocating all the shit you've done for me over nearly my entire life, I fucking guess."

He laughs again, this time clearly at you. Ah, there's the familiar irritation climbing up the walls of your midsection, though it's not getting anywhere fast.

"Whatever. I'm not having this argument again." He stands back up and heads toward the door. "Nothing to do with you, but I kinda need some fresh air. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Wait."

He pauses, spinning around to face you, eyebrows raised. You pull the case of  _ Young Troll Girl Magic Dollhouse Whatever The Fuck  _ back off the shelf. Are you really doing this? Yes, you are absolutely doing this. You smile and hold it up for him to see, and he cringes, already knowing what you're going to ask.

"Wanna watch a movie?"

He sighs dramatically. You just stare at him blankly until your eyes poke a response out of him.

"Can I make fun of it?"

"You get three general insults and one mocking impression of a side character."

"Fine."

You both move to the right side of the room. Sollux sits in his usual spot on the couch, and as you walk over to the in-hive visual media machine, you realize it's been a long time since you two have simply spent time together, without being at each other's throats. Normally you'd just be counting the minutes until things go sour, but somehow, you feel pretty good about this try. The in-hive visual media machine stands proud, dusty from disuse and eager to serve again.

With a genuine smile on your face, you turn it on.


End file.
